Drencan
by MockJayPhoenix12
Summary: After waking in the middle of the night, a worried Arthur searches for Merlin. One-shot, non-slash.


2-6-13

Drencan

Post 'Looking Back'

A/N- Arthur's first person POV. 'Drencan' is Old English for 'Drowning,' near as I can figure it. Reviews and/or criticism very welcome! ;D

I'm disappointed when I realize that I'm awake. My dreams made no actual sense, but Gwen found her way into them, and I regret having woken. I reach out to my left where Merlin lies, only to find that he's not there.

This only worries me because of how different he is these days. It isn't like he's not the same person. He's every bit the Merlin I always knew- but he's so damaged by his centuries of solitude, and frankly, I never know what's going through his head.

I can see a distance in his eyes, sometimes. I'm warned when he stares off at the lake or the sky, or nothing in particular. If I catch it soon enough, I squeeze his shoulder or, if there are actual tears in his eyes, I'll just hold him for a minute until he can compose himself.

I don't always catch it, though, and I'm still surprised when I find him moving away to cry alone. I try not to allow it, but it never feels quite right to tell him as I do that everything is fine. It's not. I can't even understand what it is that he's gone through every day, and still does now.

I do a brief search of the house. It's a little past midnight, but I'm not all that surprised to find myself alone. Little that Merlin could do now would surprise me. I'm only confused that, if he had a nightmare, how did I not hear him wake from it?

My first guess at his whereabouts is the lake. I don't know what he thinks he'll find there, but where else would he go?

I dress in a hurry and reach Avalon in a few short but tense minutes. I gaze down along the shoreline to the left, then the right, and now I see him. He stands knee-deep in the water, hands outstretched and feeling the surface, looking down into it.

I would call out to him, but I sense that he wouldn't hear me anyway, and I've no desire to call attention to us, should anyone be near enough to notice. I begin to jog toward him, but stop when I realize he's moving into the deeper water.

He's not swimming yet, nor does he seem to have any aim. I hurry on and jump in after him. "Merlin!" I call, but he's moving farther in, now up to his neck in the waters of Avalon. "Merlin, stop!"

Within a few more seconds, I've laid hold of him, my arm around his neck as I pull him back toward the shore.

"No!" he cries out, fighting me, but I've always been the stronger of us. I manage to get him up on the shore easily enough, though keeping him from diving back into the lake requires me to pin him on his back at the shoreline. I sit on his legs, holding his shoulders down while he tries in vain to push me away.

"No! Please, please, just let me!" he yells.

"I can't do that!" I shout helplessly back at him, shaking his shoulders as I realize without doubt what he intended. It brings tears to my eyes to imagine Merlin so depressed, so hopeless that he would even consider suicide.

I blink my eyes clear. "How could you, Merlin?" I press, searching his moonlit face.

He stares right back at me, almost without understanding, and for a moment, he really does look insane. He shakes his head, murmuring quietly in a voice that chokes on tears before he gives up trying to speak, and just cries.

It's as piteous a sight as it is a sound, and all I want to do is cradle him in my arms, but I won't free his shoulders until I'm sure he won't try again to get to the lake.

"…Why, Merlin?" I find myself asking him. "Why wait for me so long only to leave me now?"

He surprises me by answering clearly, "Because I know you'll be taken from me, Arthur."

I'd thought we were past such ideas. I see now that I really shouldn't have expected such episodes to suddenly cease. They were far too deep-rooted to be cured overnight or even over the few weeks since my return. I shake my head at him.

"Merlin, I'll never leave you," I tell him as earnestly as I can. My voice is hoarse with emotions I scarcely realized were so strong. "I came back, Merlin, I came back for you and I'll never leave you, I _swear_." I realize that just a few weeks ago, I told him I _couldn't_ promise to always be there for him. I'm just saying what I know will make him feel better now, regardless of its truth, because it kills me to see him so inconsolable. "Please- Merlin, please don't ever abandon _me._ I can't do this without you."

He's trembling beneath my hands, looking tearfully up at me. "I'm sorry," he says, and repeats it a few times before I shush him. He lays a hand over mine and looks up at me.

I hesitate. "Promise me you won't… try anything like that again, Merlin," I ask of him. He closes his eyes briefly before gazing back at me and nodding.

As soon as I lift my hands away, he sits up and wraps his arms around me too tightly for me to move. It's not that I want to move away, but I _am_ still sitting on him. Merlin doesn't seem to notice or care, so I just let myself rock him slowly back and forth. He cries only quietly, and not for very long before pulling away just enough to rub his eyes.

"Do you want to go home?" I ask.

"My legs are numb," he tells me with a small smile.

"Sorry. It's all right, though." With that I move off and pick him up.

"Thank you," he whispers, clinging to me.

I pause in my tracks, waiting until he's met my eyes. "Don't ever scare me like that, Merlin. I'm not asking." My fear lends harsh determination to my words.

"…I'm sorry," Merlin answers. "I'm so sorry, Arthur."

It's not like I can stay angry with him. His actions weren't entirely his own, but were incited by a loneliness he can't even control. I can't scold him any further, regardless of how I've been frightened. I can only be here for him.

"If you ever feel so low, Merlin, _talk to me_," I urge him. "Even if you don't think I'm real again, be brave enough to _try_ to convince yourself. …For me. Please, Merlin; I need your word on this."

Though my reasoning is flawed, he takes me as seriously as I meant him to. "I swear it, Arthur," he says, gripping the top of my shoulder to emphasize his honesty. "I promise. …I don't blame you, though," he admits, "if you don't trust me."

I shake my head. "Your oath has always been good enough for me, Merlin," I tell him.

I make a mental note, however, to lock us in at night.


End file.
